


Gingerbread and Happiness

by alifletcher2010



Series: ACOTAR Au Week 2019 [2]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/M, Fluff, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21821818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alifletcher2010/pseuds/alifletcher2010
Summary: ACOTAR Au Week Day 2: Roommates AURhys comes home to his kitchen and roommate covered in flour. His roommate that he is just the smallest bit in love with.
Relationships: Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Series: ACOTAR Au Week 2019 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572424
Comments: 4
Kudos: 78
Collections: ACOTAR AU Week, ACOTAR AU Week Day 2





	Gingerbread and Happiness

The person who made up the saying “the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach” had obviously never met Feyre Archeron, because Rhys swore there was nothing in the world she loved more than food.

Feyre had showed up on his doorstep one day looking like a lost dog in answer to his roommate wanted ad. He took one look at her meager possessions, too skinny frame, and disheveled appearance and he hadn’t been able to tell her he was looking for a male roommate. She had moved in that very day.

For the first few weeks the only thing he saw of her was the flash of her hair as she hid behind her door. She kept to her room except when she had to meet with clients. Every loud noise and shadow scared her and he often heard her tears from the other room. He had no idea what situation she had come from but he had desperately wanted to help her. The first time he had seen her storm gray eyes peek out from her room was when he had been cooking in the kitchen. Eventually she slipped from her room and joined him in the kitchen, the hunger in her eyes undeniable. Rhys had quietly shared his meal with her and fought hard to keep the grin of satisfaction off his face when she went back for seconds.

It became their tradition, every couple of nights, when he had the time, Rhys would cook them dinner and Feyre would eventually come and keep him company, not a word falling from her lips. They would share dinner and Rhys was always sure to make plenty so she could have seconds and leftovers for the next night.

The silence eventually became unbearable to him and unsure what to say, he began narrating the steps of the cooking process to her, sharing with her the food of his childhood. Slowly, she became accustomed to him and the timbre of his voice and began to actually talk back to him. She would sit next to him on the counter as he worked occasionally asking questions, the light in her eyes slowly returning.

When he discovered she couldn’t cook, had never learned due to the nature of her childhood and never needed to when she lived with her ex-finance, Rhys decided their little quiet kitchen moments would become cooking lessons. She took to it right away, the joy in her eyes every time she made something successfully was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. In mere months, she surpassed him, becoming more alive with every meal she successfully made.

Which was why when Rhys came home after a long day at work shaking off the cold and snow, he was completely unsurprised to find their kitchen an utter disaster. Pans and pots piled high in the sink, dishes were scattered across every counter, cookies were stacked a mile high, all in various stages of decorating, and flour coated nearly every surface, including the woman standing in his kitchen. It look as if Christmas had quite literally exploded all over their kitchen.

Rhys chuckled at the sight of Feyre, even covered in flour, she was spectacular. He didn’t know when it happened, perhaps it had begun that very first day when she appeared on his doorstep, but he was deeply and irrevocably in love with her. Feyre turned at the sound of his laugh and smiled at him, her grin doing funny things to his heart.

“What’s so funny, Prick?” she quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing, Darling.” Feyre rolled her eyes at the nickname. Rhys couldn’t remember how it became a thing, but he was glad of it. Somehow he wanted her to know how much she meant to him, even if he knew she would never reciprocate.

“Do I have flour in my hair again?”

Rhys could barely contain his laughter, “Something like that.”

Feyre growled at him. “Don’t laugh! I had a really good commission and thought I would celebrate with gingerbread cookies. And then I thought I’d bring some to the neighbors and your family since the holidays are just around the corner…” Her voice picked up pace in her excitement and then stuttered out as she took in the mess around her. “…I meant to have it all cleaned up before you got home, I’m sorry.”

Rhys could feel his heart break a little at the small break in her voice at those last words. The times were few and far in between now when she started to crack, started to retreat into the shell she had been those first few months. Carefully, Rhys walked across the kitchen, avoiding the spills and flour all over the floor, to stand next to her.

“May I?” he asked.

Feyre nodded looking up at him, her eyes unreadable and nodded. Rhys wrapped his arms around her delicately and pulled her into his chest. After a moment he gently pulled away, just enough that he could cradle her face in his hands and look her in the eyes. Tears were making tracks in the flour on her cheeks and her eyes were growing red.

“Feyre,” he said softly, yet firmly so his intention wouldn’t be mistaken, “You never, ever, _ever_ have to apologize for making a mess. This is your home too. I’m just happy you’re happy here, that you feel comfortable enough to make a mess. So please, please never apologize.”

Feyre only nodded in response, sending more flour sprinkling down on Rhys so that his arms look like they had been dusted in snow. She laughed somewhat at the sight and Rhys wondered again at the beautiful sound of her joy.

“I seem to have gotten a little flour on you,” she gave him a warm smile and Rhys noticed they were still half embracing in the kitchen, Feyre closer than he remembered.

“You seem to have a little on you too.” Gently he swiped his thumbs across her cheeks, brushing away the flour, sending it to the floor in little spirals. Accidentally, his thumb grazed the corner of her perfect mouth, the feel of the soft flesh sending shivers down his spine. Unmistakable too was the catch of Feyre’s breath at his touch, their faces so close he could feel her breath on his cheeks.

Rhys pulled back at the sound and looked into her eyes, a storm of emotion that made his heart stop. “Feyre?” he whispered, not daring to ask aloud the hope in his heart.

Her only response was to surge up and press her lips to his. Rhys pulled her close to himself, wrapping his arms around her, tangling his fingers in her long hair. She tasted of gingerbread and happiness and the answer to a long searched question. He vowed that very moment to never let her go.


End file.
